


you're the only song i need

by chanson



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Busking AU, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, just a short howons holiday meet-cute because why not?, mentions of sonagi team members
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 05:33:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanson/pseuds/chanson
Summary: Jaehwan goes to busk on his favorite corner, only to find that someone else is already there.





	you're the only song i need

**Author's Note:**

> one day i vow to write a proper howons fic, complete with characterization and an actual plot like they deserve, but until then, here is a short piece of fluff i scribbled off late last night.
> 
> unbeta'd with minimal proofreading so i apologize in advance for the likely numerous errors.

♪ ♪ ♪  
  


There is a man with a guitar standing on Jaehwan’s designated busking corner and Jaehwan is outraged.

True, the city doesn’t _technically_ allow its residents to reserve sections of the sidewalk for musical purposes, but Jaehwan has been busking on this corner every winter break for the past three years. It’s the perfect spot; prone to heavy foot traffic from the shoppers passing between the department stores at one end of the street to the Christmas market on the other end, but still in an open enough area not to cause a roadblock. (Yes, Jaehwan’s music tends to draw a crowd. It’s not bragging if it’s true.) So even though that particular stretch of sidewalk doesn’t have ‘Kim Jaehwan’ spelled out on it in chalk, there’s an implicit understanding that this spot belongs to him.  

It’s never been a problem before. Until today, that is.

The interloper doesn’t seem to have a clue about the gross violation he committed, and he smiles serenely at passersby while he plucks a few chords on his guitar. Meanwhile, Jaehwan and his friends are forced to set up on the opposite corner, which isn’t nearly as ideal because it’s directly outside the Apple Store, and people never feel as charitable when they’ve just blown $2000 on a new laptop for their spoiled niece.

“I’m going to say something,” Jaehwan decides. “We’ve got seniority _and_ we outnumber him so he’ll have to move.”

“Let him be,” Minhyun says, placing the ‘tips’ sign into the open guitar case with unnecessary care. “Intimidation only works if you’re _actually intimidating._ ”

“Speak for yourself.” Sure, Minhyun may look like some posh, feeble aristocrat, but Jaehwan is a manly man, who does lots of manly things like play football and wear leather jackets during the winter season. Anyway, how hard can it be to scare off the guy wearing a reindeer sweater vest?

“If you start a fight and he beats you up, know that I’m not patching you up afterwards,” Jisung lies. Jaehwan knows it’s a lie because Jisung uses this same threat everytime Jaehwan has one of his more ‘inventive’ ideas, but his nurturing instinct always wins out in the end. Jaehwan could crash Jisung’s (hypothetical) car in a drag race and Jisung would be still be there to pull Jaehwan out from the wreckage.

“I wasn’t going to _fight_ ,” Jaehwan mutters. “I just think someone ought to explain the situation to him.”

His friends couldn’t possibly understand. Every year they get together during the holiday season to sing Christmas carols on a street corner for fun and for a bit of extra spending money, but for them it’s just that: a once-a-year event. Jaehwan, on the other hand, has made a habit of going every day during the week leading up to Christmas and standing with his guitar in that exact spot. It’s the principle of the matter.

Sungwoon gives Jaehwan a consoling pat on the back. “Don’t worry. We could be singing in the back alleyway behind some pub and Minhyun’s face would still rake in the tips.”

Minhyun flushes and is suddenly very focused on adjusting the mic stand, despite the fact that it’s already at the right height.

“Fine.” Jaehwan lets out a long-suffering sigh and picks up his guitar. “In the spirit of Christmas, I’ll let it slide. Just this one time.”

Of course, then the spot hijacker has the audacity to open his mouth and begin to sing. What’s worse, he’s _good_.

Irritated, Jaehwan strums a few power chords on his guitar and launches into an aggressive rendition of _We Wish You a Merry Christmas._ His friends, to their credit, are only caught off guard for a moment, and by the second verse they’ve already joined in on the harmonies.  
  


♪ ♪ ♪  
  


Jaehwan returns to his spot the following evening, only to discover that the corner thief is already there, this time clad in a green turtleneck with real jingle bells on it. It’s not even a practical outfit for busking and Jaehwan feels his simmering irritation rise to a full boil.

Again, Jaehwan considers saying something, but without his entourage to back him up this time (Sungwoon might be small, but he is loyal, and more importantly, _scrappy_ ) he feels far less confident. Plus, there are a few people who have stopped to listen to the trespasser play. Jaehwan might be annoyed with the guy, but that doesn’t mean he wants to humiliate him in front of a group of strangers.

Grudgingly, Jaehwan sets up on the opposite corner and wills himself to ignore the growing crowd that forms around the intruder. Instead, he focuses on his fingers on the frets and hums the opening notes to a _White Christmas_.

It works. Soon enough, the music overtakes him, and Jaehwan gets so absorbed by the joy of playing that he forgets entirely about his burning resentment.

He’s missed this feeling, of sitting in the crisp winter air with just his guitar and singing songs for the public. There’s nothing quite as good for Jaehwan’s soul (and his ego) like seeing the frown on a passing pedestrian transform into a smile when they hear his voice. Except maybe when they stop and tip him. That’s even better.

In fact, Jaehwan is so caught up in the heartwarming atmosphere and general holiday cheer, that when he stops to take a break to stretch and rest his voice, he finds himself swaying along to the soulful rendition of _Auld Lang Syne_ that plays in the distance. It’s not until the song ends and he hears the smattering of applause, that Jaehwan realizes it wasn’t coming from one of the stores, but from the busker across the street.  
  


♪ ♪ ♪  
  


It becomes a pattern.

Every evening, Jaehwan will show up at the same corner, only to find that the other busker is already there, often surrounded by admirers, and always dressed in some sort of gaudy holiday attire. Jaehwan will then slouch over to the opposite corner and play his guitar and sing his heart out for a few hours, until the cold sinks into his bones and becomes so unbearable that he packs up for the night.

Another part of the pattern, even though Jaehwan is loathed to admit it, is that during his breaks, Jaehwan will always listen to the other busker play.

The thing is that Jaehwan loves music. It’s why he decided to learn guitar in the first place and it’s why he chooses to sit outside during winter singing to strangers for money instead of seeking out more practical sources of income, like a job that would allow him to stay indoors.

The other busker might be arrogant and annoying—Jaehwan hasn’t actually spoken to him, but he feels safe in assuming these traits since he stole Jaehwan’s spot, the sheer _disrespect_ —but he’s an undeniably talented musician. He plays the same Christmas jingles and Top 40 hits that every radio station and shop does during this time of year, but there’s always a twist to them, a different intonation or chord progression that makes it unique. As if that wasn’t enough, the guy’s voice is positively enchanting, at once clear and pleasing to the ears, yet also deeply expressive.

Every now and then, the busker will play a song that even Jaehwan, with his extensive and impractical knowledge of all the relevant music of the past several decades, doesn’t recognize. Jaehwan’s pretty sure they’re original compositions, and he always listens extra closely whenever he hears him perform one of those.  

“Are you going to play something or what?” A snide voice interrupts Jaehwan’s musings. The other busker is playing one of his own songs, and Jaehwan had been straining to hear it over the cacophony of street noise.

 _I’m not a show pony_ , Jaehwan wants to say, but he’s got an education to fund and bills to pay, so he bites his tongue and pastes a smile on his face.

“Sure thing. How about some Bublé?”

  
♪ ♪ ♪  
  


It’s freezing outside. Jaehwan has only been busking for twenty minutes, but he’s about ready to pack up his guitar and call it a night. It’s not like there are many pedestrians around anyway. Any other year, Jaehwan probably wouldn’t have gone out at all, choosing the warm embrace of his bed over the extra cash, but this time he felt weirdly compelled to show up, knowing that the other busker would be there too.

At this point, Jaehwan can’t even tell if his feelings are those of rivalry or solidarity anymore. Most of his initial animosity has faded (aided in part by the fact that the location change has made zero impact on his earnings, and surprisingly, he’s making more than ever before), and he’s starting to develop an odd sense of kinship with the other busker. They’re the only two fools playing guitar outside on a snowy night after all.

Jaehwan’s fingers slip along the frets and he sighs. If the snowfall increases, he really will go home though, because it’s not worth the damage to his prized instrument nor the possibility of catching a cold.

“Here,” a gentle voice says. Jaehwan looks up and startles when he sees the other busker standing in front of him, holding out a steaming holiday cup. The streetlamps cast a soft glow which creates a sort of halo effect around him as he offers Jaehwan the hot drink. That, along with the snowflakes clinging to his hair and eyelashes, make him look practically angelic. He _is_ wearing an Olaf sweater though, so that kind of dampens the effect.

“Oh. Thanks,” Jaehwan replies, flustered.

Their fingers brush as Jaehwan accepts the cup, and he absently notes that the guy’s hands feel ice cold. Jaehwan pops the lid open, takes a deep sniff, and is immediately hit with the delicious aroma of hot cocoa.

“You looked like you could use it. Plus, us buskers have to look out for one another.”

Shame burns hot in Jaehwan’s gut and he avoids answering by taking a gulp of the hot cocoa. It turns out the busker isn’t actually a terrible person, and Jaehwan may be the truly terrible one for inventing such a narrative in the first place.

“I’m Sewoon by the way.”

“Jaehwan,” Jaehwan croaks out.

An awkward silence ensues. Or at least, _Jaehwan_ feels awkward. Sewoon not so much, he supposes, because he continues to stand there, smiling and looking entirely at ease while Jaehwan sips at his drink and sneaks discreet glances at him.

It’s the first time that Jaehwan has actually caught more than a passing glimpse of Sewoon. Initially, Jaehwan was too distracted by both his own irritation and Sewoon’s questionable fashion choices to pay much attention to the rest of his appearance, and his attention is usually on the music while he’s busking. Now that Jaehwan can properly make out his features and consider them, he decides that Sewoon, with his pretty, sloping eyes and full, dare he say, _kissable_ looking lips, is, in fact, very cute.

“I can hear you play sometimes,” Sewoon says, oblivious to Jaehwan’s recent epiphany and subsequent inner turmoil. “You’ve got a beautiful voice.”

“Thanks,” Jaehwan says again, wishing he had a more clever response ready. Despite all his bluster, Jaehwan isn't all that great at receiving genuine compliments, and he and his friends prefer to express their love through sarcasm and occasional mockery. He’s really not prepared for handsome, talented strangers to just compliment him out of the blue.

“Um, your voice is nice too. It’s really… special,” Jaehwan finishes lamely.  

“Thank you.” Sewoon lets out a small laugh. He hitches his slipping guitar case so that it rests higher on his shoulder. “I have to head home, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Affirmative,” Jaehwan replies.

Satisfied, Sewoon nods and continues his stroll in the direction of the nearest subway stop. Jaehwan might, _possibly,_ watch Sewoon walk away until he’s merely a dot on the snowy landscape, but there's no around who can prove it.

  
♪ ♪ ♪  
  


Nothing really changes after their encounter, except now Jaehwan knows that the busker who stole his spot is named Sewoon and that Sewoon is not only cute, but is also the sort of good samaritan that goes around buying hot cocoa and giving it to strangers standing outside in the cold.

Now, when Jaehwan arrives he waves at Sewoon before he sets up, and Sewoon waves back.

Okay, so a few things _do_ change, but nothing significant.

Sure, Jaehwan’s previous assumptions about Sewoon have been proved false beyond the shadow of a doubt, and he’s discovered that the Sewoon is someone he would actually really like to get to know, but for the most part, they still ignore each other, sticking to their respective sides of the street.

Since Sewoon reached out first, the onus falls on Jaehwan to make the next move. Jaehwan wouldn’t consider himself a shy person, and yet he struggles to work up the nerve to even approach Sewoon again. _He was just being nice_ , Jaehwan tells himself. _There’s no reason to get so worked up about it._  Still, the butterflies in Jaehwan’s stomach won’t rest and he spends a lot of time wondering when and how he can repay Sewoon for the cocoa.

Jaehwan’s in the middle of yet another break—they’ve been increasing in frequency, but listening to music is _healing_ , okay?—when he hears the opening chords of _All I Want For Christmas is You_ coming from Sewoon’s direction.

Sewoon is obscured from Jaehwan’s view due to the small crowd that encircles him once again, but Jaehwan quietly sings along with him, strumming his guitar and adding harmonies at the appropriate parts. He’s definitely not thinking about how well this particular song fits his current mood.

“You two should do a duet,” a middle-aged woman says. She gives Jaehwan a warm, indulgent smile and drops a dollar in his guitar case, before walking on and leaving Jaehwan with yet another longing thought about Sewoon to drive himself mad with.

  
♪ ♪ ♪  
  


Christmas Eve is the first night of the week that Jaehwan isn’t busking, yet he finds himself with his guitar case in hand, standing at the corner where Sewoon is currently performing.

Jaehwan brought his guitar with him because he is ostensibly on his way to the annual Christmas Eve gathering he has with his friends. Hyunbin and Seongwoo are hosting the party at their place this year, and whenever Seongwoo and Jaehwan are together and alcohol is thrown into the mix, the night will inevitably turn into a jam session. It's best to come prepared.

Jaehwan doesn't have quite as neat an excuse for why he's standing outside at the intersection he busks at every evening, instead of at the party, indulging in spiced rum. All he can say is that it felt wrong to leave Sewoon alone on Christmas Eve. Not that Sewoon is truly alone. Even on Christmas Eve, people have stopped to listen to Sewoon play. At this moment, Sewoon is singing one of his original pieces, a heart-wrenching song about love and longing, and a personal favorite of Jaehwan’s (yes, he has favorites now).

As Jaehwan stands among the crowd—strategically placed so he's not in Sewoon's direct line of sight—he realizes that he is merely one of Sewoon's many admirers, though he desperately wishes to be more than that. If not a romantic partner, then at the very least, a friend.

Maybe it’s the song that is causing Jaehwan to feel unusually contemplative, or perhaps it’s the time of year which naturally lends itself to these sorts of reflections, but the thought suddenly occurs to him that Sewoon may not busk anymore after Christmas is over. It is this awful thought that makes Jaehwan's heart sink, and, finally, spurs him into action.

Jaehwan pulls away from the crowd and speedwalks a couple of blocks over to the nearest department store. Thankfully they’re open late on Christmas Eve for the last-minute shoppers and stragglers like Jaehwan. He just prays that Sewoon doesn’t decide to suddenly up and leave.

To Jaehwan’s immense relief, Sewoon is still standing there when he returns and is in the middle of taking a short rest to drink some water. Sewoon’s eyes widen comically when he sees Jaehwan approach him.

“Merry Christmas,” Jaehwan says, thrusting the small plastic bag at Sewoon.

Sewoon swallows and caps the water bottle. When he speaks, he sounds almost reverent. “You bought me a gift.”

“It’s nothing big,” Jaehwan reassures hastily. He’s already starting to have doubts. It’s probably weird and way too personal to buy someone you’ve only met once a Christmas gift. Jaehwan should’ve just bought him coffee.

Sewoon obviously doesn't think so, however, because he makes the cutest noise of delight when he pulls the fingerless gloves from the bag. He immediately sets down the water bottle so he can put them on.

“Thank you, Jaehwan,” Sewoon says, flashing Jaehwan a bright, pleased smile that sets Jaehwan’s heart aflutter. He can feel his ears and cheeks burn, and he knows he probably resembles an overripe tomato.

“I noticed your hands were always cold,” Jaehwan says and then mentally kicks himself. They’ve literally only touched hands once. “I mean, they _looked_ cold. Because you don’t wear gloves, and it’s like, below freezing temperature outside. Which is kind of crazy.” _Great,_ Jaehwan thinks to himself, _revert to insults as a way of flirting. That’s always charming._

Sewoon is too kind of a person to return the jibe or even give Jaehwan the judgy sort of stare he’s come to expect in these situations.

Instead, Sewoon simply nods. “You’re right, it’s pretty crazy.” He pauses for a moment and then laughs. It’s the sort of joyful, pointless laugh people only make when they’re really happy about something and can’t find the right words to express it. “I like these a lot.”

“Well, that’s good then.” Jaehwan shuffles from foot to foot, wondering if he should leave, but not really wanting to.  

“I’m glad you came out to busk tonight. I thought yesterday might’ve been the last I’d see of you.”

“Actually I’m not busking tonight. I was just passing by on my way to my friends’ apartment.”

“Oh,” Sewoon says, smile slipping from his face.

Jaehwan isn’t particularly experienced when it comes to matters of the heart, but as far as he’s concerned that’s practically a love confession, right? Or at least, a letter of interest.

“But, I’m really early,” Jaehwan swiftly tacks on. He’s not. His phone is buzzing in his pocket, and he knows without even looking at it that it’s Sungwoon, no doubt sending him impatient texts demanding to know what’s taking him so long.

His friends can wait all night as far as Jaehwan is concerned though because Sewoon perks up again and shoots him a soft, shy smile, and Jaehwan thinks he might be a little bit in love.

“In that case, do you want to stick around and play a song with me before you go?”

“I’d love that,” Jaehwan says emphatically, setting down his guitar case.

He never does get around to making it to the party, but it ends up being the best Christmas Eve he’s had in a long time.  
  


♪ ♪ ♪

**Author's Note:**

> meep. sorry for the cop-out ending. 
> 
> this started as a short, innocent drabble, but somehow became its own (small-sized) beast, and as you can probably tell, i ended up having to rush some parts of this since i started it so late and close to christmas. i hope it wasn't too terrible in any case.
> 
> as always, thank you for reading, and may you have the happiest of holidays! ♡


End file.
